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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535661">I swear I didn't mean for it to feel like this</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/pseuds/theglitterati'>theglitterati</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo, Bruises, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Otabek Altin is a Good Boyfriend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:27:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535661</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/pseuds/theglitterati</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuri tries, and fails, to hide his bruises from Otabek.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bad Things Happen Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I swear I didn't mean for it to feel like this</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The title is from "Bruised" by Jack's Mannequin (get it?). Didn't think I'd be naming all my fics after Jack's Mannequin and Dashboard Confessional songs in the year 2020, but here we are.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Yuri!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Otabek’s face broke into a smile as soon as he saw his boyfriend. Yuri tramped across the arrivals terminal, three suitcases in tow and a scowl on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beka!” The scowl disappeared when he saw Otabek. Yuri dropped the bags ten feet away and flew into his arms. Determined to show Yuri just how glad he was to see him, Otabek lifted him off his feet and swung him around in a circle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah!” Yuri yelped. “Ouch!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, sorry.” Otabek put him down. “I got excited.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S’okay.” Yuri kissed him. “I’m happy to see you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got us a taxi,” Otabek said. “Can I help with your bags?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuri pointed. “You can take that one. It’s the heaviest.” Otabek laughed and picked it up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun hung low over the horizon as the taxi drove them through Almaty, back to Otabek’s apartment. Otabek had been waiting weeks to see Yuri, and now that he was here, it almost didn’t feel real. He felt like taking Yuri to bed the second they got back to his place, but they needed to have dinner first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made us a reservation at that Japanese restaurant you liked last time you were here,” Otabek said when they got home. “I hope that’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was surprised when Yuri’s face fell. “That place was far away, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Otabek shrugged. “Only ten minutes on my bike.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long if we walk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too long.” They wouldn’t make the reservation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuri bit his lip. Otabek thought he looked a little sad. “Can we go someplace closer? I don’t feel like going on a bike ride tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Yuri normally loved motorcycle rides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. I’ll call the restaurant and cancel.” Otabek was a little disappointed; Yuri had loved the place, and Otabek wanted to treat him this time. But it was no big loss: he wouldn’t let a small hiccup like this ruin his few days with Yuri. He hung up the phone. “We can go wherever you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ended up at a pizza place just around the corner. Yuri was back to his usual self at dinner, joking and talking shit about all of their mutual acquaintances. After, they walked home hand-in-hand, stopping to kiss in the dark patches between streetlights.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them wasted any time when they got home. Otabek closed the apartment door and pressed Yuri against it, kissing him deeply. Yuri let him for a few minutes, then pushed him off and dragged him into the bedroom. They fell into bed, tearing their shirts off as they went and sliding under the covers. Otabek climbed on top of Yuri and started undoing his belt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sorry— just the belt—” Yuri pushed Otabek’s fingers away and finished undoing it, then quickly divested himself of his jeans. Otabek did the same, kicking his pants off and throwing them off the bed. He crawled back up Yuri’s body, pressing their hips together—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah!” Otabek heard a hiss as Yuri sucked in a breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing. Let’s just keep going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yuri?” Otabek sat back on his heels, straddling Yuri’s legs. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m fine,” Yuri said. But his voice sounded strange. Otabek reached for the lamp. “No, don’t—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Otabek’s fingers hit the switch before he could finish. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Yuri,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Otabek gasped. He pulled the blankets back. “What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuri’s right hip was covered in bruises — or, more accurately, one huge bruise — that ran from his waist to halfway down his thigh. Yuri let Otabek tug his boxers down to see the whole thing. It was a mottled mess of colours, green and blue, but mostly purple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Otabek demanded again, his voice rising with panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuri crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not a big deal, okay? I’ve been trying to get my quad flip before Worlds, and I’ve been falling a lot. That’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can you say this isn’t a big deal?! Yuri, you don’t bruise like that from a few falls. How long have you had this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A few months,” Yuri muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Months? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Then it’s not healing properly, and it won’t if you keep falling on it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I wouldn’t be falling if I could get my fucking flip, would I? It should be perfect by now, but I keep making the same mistake over and over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yuri,” Otabek said seriously. He had to get through to him, make him understand that this was not okay. “You know better than this. This is dangerous. Does anyone else know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuri rolled his eyes. “Obviously not. They’d all overreact, like you. What am I supposed to do, stop practising?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is exactly what you should do. You need to see a doctor, take a break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worlds are in three weeks, Otabek,” Yuri snarled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You cannot go to Worlds. You’re injured. You can’t—” Otabek felt sick just thinking what could happen. If Yuri kept this up, he could injure himself permanently. It could be the end of his skating career, or worse, it could do serious damage to his future health.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not ‘injured,’” Yuri protested. “I can skate fine, other than the stupid flip. I’m going to Worlds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I’m not!” Otabek yelled. He didn’t think about the words before he said them, but he knew at once that they were true. “If you want to ruin your body, fine. But I love you, and I won’t watch you do it. You want to go to Worlds, you can go without me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Otabek stood in a trance and stormed into the living room, slamming the door behind him. He sat on the couch, still in just his underwear, quietly shaking from fear or anger — he wasn’t sure which.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts raced. He’d meant what he said: he wouldn’t let Yuri destroy himself for a piece of gold on a string. But he couldn’t leave him alone at Worlds, either. He could hurt himself more seriously — just one bad fall could change everything. What if something happened, and Otabek wasn’t there? What if he was in another country, and couldn’t get there in time, and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t go to Worlds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Otabek hadn’t heard the door open. He spun around to find Yuri leaning in the doorway, wearing one of Otabek’s t-shirts. It hung off him like a dress, the bruise just visible below the hem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said I won’t go,” Yuri repeated. “I’ll drop out, and I’ll go to doctor when I get back to Russia.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Otabek exhaled sharply. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuri shrugged. “It fucking sucks, but… making you upset sucks more, so I won’t compete.” He came around the back of the couch to sit next to Otabek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Otabek said. “I’m… I’m relieved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuri was quiet for a moment. “I’m not really used to having people worry about me,” he finally said. “Usually I do whatever the fuck I want and nobody cares. I didn’t think it would matter to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yuri, you matter a lot to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… you said you love me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Otabek blinked. Did he? Oh god. He totally did. They hadn’t said that to each other yet, though Otabek had been thinking it for weeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you mean it?” Yuri demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I meant it. I love you, Yuri.” Otabek ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry the first time I said it was during an argument. I just… want you to be safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuri nodded once. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope you’re not too angry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pissed off that I have to miss Worlds after having a perfect season so far. But I’m not mad at you. I am still going to go to Osaka, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Worlds were in Osaka this year.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because I’m not skating doesn’t mean I can’t come. I already bought my plane ticket. I’ll cheer for you, and remind everyone else that they’re only getting medals because I’m not skating.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Otabek laughed. “Okay. I’m happy you’ll be there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too.” Yuri looked down at his legs, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Lofyutoo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yuri scrunched his nose. “I said I love you, too, okay? Don’t make me say it again.” His cheeks turned bright pink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Otabek beamed. He leaned in and kissed Yuri thoroughly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we go back to bed now?” Yuri asked. “I’m only here for three days…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely.” Otabek stood. “You probably shouldn’t be walking on that leg, though. Let me help you with that.” He scooped Yuri up in his arms and carried him into the bedroom, Yuri protesting the entire time.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me at kyrstin.tumblr.com.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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